


When My Mind Searches for Peace

by icandrawamoth



Series: Tycho/Corran [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: X-Wing Series - Aaron Allston & Michael Stackpole
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Established Relationship, Insomnia, Literal Sleeping Together, Lusankya, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-10
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2019-08-21 12:35:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16576598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icandrawamoth/pseuds/icandrawamoth
Summary: Tycho has a hard time dealing with the quarantine on theLusankya. He should have known who he could go to for help and understanding.





	When My Mind Searches for Peace

It's two hours past midnight when Tycho gives up on the concept of sleep and wanders from his quarters back to the quarantine area's lounge. All the lights are dimmed as the _Lusankya_ runs through its night cycle, and no one else is present.

Of course. Everyone else had gone to bed hours ago. Tycho had sat in a corner watching them drift off in ones and twos, Wedge and his concerned gaze beside him. He'd kept asking Tycho if he was all right, and though Tycho knows his best friend's worry is genuine, it's tiring as well, and it just reinforces how not okay Tycho is. He'd been grateful when Wedge started yawning and slumping on the couch and Tycho could insist he sleep himself. He'd even gone to his own quarters at the same time to appease his friend.

But he hadn't slept. His mind is too busy feeding him every scrap of memory it holds from his time in Isard's prison over three years ago. Those images, flickering and insubstantial, of pain and terror and isolation and despair, haunt him as they play over and over across the back of his brain. He know he's safe here now, and it's a relief that the ship has been refitted for New Republic hands, that prison gone forever, but being trapped here for this quarantine without a means of escape puts him right back in that same mindset.

“Tycho?”

He starts at the voice, loud in the silent stillness of the empty room. He turns, and it's Corran standing there at the entrance to the lounge, a robe cinched around his waist. Pale, sweat-slick skin peaks from the loose closure at his throat, and there's a frown on his face.

“Couldn't sleep either?” Tycho tries for lighthearted.

Corran shakes his head silently and comes to stand beside him. Silently, Tycho reaches for his hand, and their fingers fold together. They've never been especially good at talking about this, but the fact that they're both here is good. Corran's hand in his feels solid and reassuring.

“I had a feeling...” Corran trails off, looking up at him. “And here you were.”

Tycho looks away. It feels too much like Corran is seeing inside him. Between the Force and his own feelings about this place, he probably is, but Tycho doesn't want to discuss it. He's so tired. He just wants to rest, to turn his brain off even for only a few hours.

And maybe Corran understands that too, because he uses his grip on Tycho's hand to tug him over to one of the couches – the soft brown one near the transparisteel partition with the visitors' section, the most comfortable of the lot that Hobbie is usually monopolizing during Wes's constant visits. Corran sits, pulling Tycho down beside him, and before Tycho can say or do anything, guiding his head down to his shoulder.

Tycho rests against him, just concentrating on breathing as Corran's arm goes around him. His presence is warm and comforting, and Tycho hadn't realized how much he needed that. Why hadn't he sought this out days ago?

“Have I ever told you about my first day on the job with CorSec?” Corran asks.

He has. The comical tale of one mishap after another is one of Corran's favorites, and Tycho has heard it more than once when one of them was having a rough day. “No,” he says.

Corran huffs a little laugh and drops a light kiss to Tycho's hair before launching into the story. It's not long before Tycho stops really listening, just letting the familiar words wash over him, the rise and fall of Corran's voice in his ear relax him. He leans more heavily against him, feeling his eyes grow heavy.

At some point, Corran goes quiet, though Tycho barely notices. There's soft pressure as Corran leans his head against Tycho's, sighing quietly. Then, a little while later, he says, “We should try going back to bed. Come with me.”

“Okay,” Tycho agrees easily, so close to the edge of sleep now. He lets Corran guide him back to a sitting position, and Tycho catches a hazy sight of his face, green eyes soft and smiling, and returns the gesture.

“Up we go,” Corran says, pushing himself to his feet and pulling Tycho up with him.

Together they stumble down the hall and into Corran's room. Tycho drops into the mess of the unmade bed without a thought, and Corran crawls in behind him, pulling him against his chest. “Go back to sleep,” he murmurs in his ear, and Tycho does.

He'll wake in the morning still uneasy with this place, but with Corran's arms around him and his steady breathing in his ear, it will take him long minutes to remember.


End file.
